


You Avoid What You Need The Most

by merulanoir



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark pasts and a hopeful soft future, M/M, Yoga pants AU, no beta we die like meh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir
Summary: The yoga was just as unbearably difficult as last week. Daud struggled to keep his face expressionless, but he kept slipping. Sarnai came by a few times to correct his poses, and Daud was torn between resenting admiration and burning shame; yoga was so much more awful than he’d ever imagined.Billie was going to be grounded until she turned twenty.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud
Comments: 27
Kudos: 107





	You Avoid What You Need The Most

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to think of some way to tag "yoga pants au" that wasn't fucking ridiculous, but here we are. I have nothing to say for myself.
> 
> This fic is my silly, indulgent, soft modern AU. The title is sort of a quote of an inspirational yoga blah-blah, originally going "the yoga pose you avoid the most you need the most." And to clarify, I'm a big fan of ashtanga yoga myself. :D

The yoga studio looked exactly as bad as Corvo feared. The door opened with a cheerful tinkle of a bell, revealing a tiny lobby decorated with warm colors and several cushions. There was a distinct scent of patchouli in the air, and before Corvo managed to duck out a friendly voice greeted him.

“Coming to the course, dear?”

The speaker was an elderly woman, originally from Wei-Ghon going by her looks. She had long, black hair tied off into a neat braid, and she was dressed in loose trousers and an indigo shirt with golden embroidery. She peered expectantly at Corvo from behind the counter. Corvo opened his mouth and hoped that he’d find the words to explain he’d gotten lost.

“Uh. Yeah. I think?”

The woman nodded with a gentle smile. “The dressing room for men is over there, right behind your back. I’m afraid it’s very small, we tend to get more women here.” 

She must have seen Corvo’s panicked look. “That is not to say that yoga is a bad hobby for men. Not at all!” She quickly dug out a form. “Please fill in your contact details here. Then you can go change.”

Corvo nursed a faint hope of finding a way to back out, but as soon as he was done the lady snatched the form from his hands and ushered him into the dressing room. 

It was tiny. There were a few lockers, a bench, and a minuscule shower tucked into the back corner. Everything was decorated with deep purples and bright teals, and Corvo closed his eyes for a few seconds. He could hear female voices chattering from behind the wall, the words unintelligible but clearly happily excited for the yoga basics course.

He could do this. He’d stay for one lesson and then tell Emily yoga wasn’t for him. She’d be disappointed at him for abandoning yet another hobby she’d suggested, yes, but Corvo would distract her with a movie over the weekend. Then she might forget about her worry that her dad was lonely.

The door creaked open and Corvo turned around. His brain ground to a total halt when the old lady practically pushed in another guy.

He was huge. He wasn’t exactly tall but his shoulders were wide, and even when he was dressed in his winter clothes it was clear to see he was packing more muscle than two Corvos combined. He was trying to say something to the lady, who resolutely ignored his protests and closed the door to his face.

There was a tense silence. Then the man turned around and visibly started when he noticed there was someone else in the tiny dressing room. Corvo met his clear gray eyes with an embarrassed smile. There was a scar marching down the left side of the man’s face.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man grumbled. His stiff posture sagged a little. “I, uh. Came to the wrong place. I think.” 

“Yoga?” Corvo tried weakly. He was very aware of how close to each other they were standing; the dressing room barely fit two adults. The man smelled exceedingly good, and there was still some snow caught in his dark brown hair.

“Fuck no.” The man grimaced. “My daughter told me she’d signed me up for a martial arts class.”

Corvo snorted a laughter. The man gave him an odd look.

“Yours too, huh? My daughter pestered me for weeks, told me I need a hobby.”

“Teenage girls,” the man agreed with a sigh of a man who knew what he was talking about. He glanced around the dressing room. “The lady out front didn’t let me leave.” He sounded vaguely impressed underneath the grudging tone.

Corvo imagined the tiny lady managing to push a guy that big around, and concluded that there must have been some unseen benefits to doing yoga.

“I already resigned to staying for one lesson.” Corvo finally started to unzip his jacket. “Emily will never let me live it down if I don’t even try this.”

The man heaved another sigh. He looked at the door and then started to tug his scarf off. 

“Like fuck I’m going to wrestle that tiny lady,” he muttered. He glanced at Corvo. “You ever tried this crap?”

“Do I look like a guy who has?” Corvo smiled. He was still wearing his work clothes, a black henley and jeans, both covered in splotches of paint; he’d been subbing for the first grade teacher, and apparently Thursdays were art days. The guy rolled his eyes as he started to unbutton the neat shirt he was wearing. Corvo stole another glance at his shoulders and his throat turned a little dry; his estimate had not been incorrect.

“I have literally no idea.” The man dug through his bag, frowning like the clothes had offended him personally. 

“No, I haven’t tried yoga before,” Corvo said just to make sure there were no misunderstandings. “I’ve mostly been a jog or a gym type of person up until now.” He turned around to shuck his shirt and change into sweats and an old t-shirt he’d brought along. He’d had no idea how you dressed up for a yoga lesson.

“Same here,” the guy grunted. “I used to wrestle when I was younger, but I fucked up my knee so those days are gone now.”

Corvo turned around to say something, and was greeted by a broad, naked back. Intricate tattoos covered almost every inch of skin that was visible, and the words died in his throat. The tattoos were mostly black and grayscale, and Corvo wasn’t quick enough to blink out of his stupor before the guy pulled his shirt down and turned to face him.

His eyes crinkled with a grin. “As I said, my daughter conned me here. I only have a rashguard for a shirt.”

Corvo swallowed with an audible click. Then he quickly looked away and prayed to any god that would listen that he had not been as obvious as he feared.

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” His voice came out strangled.

The guy snorted as he kicked off his black jeans. Corvo caught sight of hairy, muscular thighs, and then he busied himself with stuffing his own clothes into one of the lockers before he burst a vein. A knock on the door broke the silence.

“Gentlemen, if you’re quite ready?”

Corvo recognized the voice and when he looked, the guy gave him another eyeroll.

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad,” Corvo muttered. He grinned, his neck still feeling hot.

“I’ve always loved to make an ass of myself,” the guy agreed with a weary smile. He opened the door, and Corvo followed him.

The actual gym had wooden floors and mellow lighting. At the front was a small altar with fresh flowers and a few candles burning. Corvo entered after the guy, and every person in the room turned to stare at them. There were maybe ten women, most of them looking no older than twenty five.

The lady standing at the front cleared her throat, and Corvo followed the guy to the two mats laid out at the back of the room. He caught his eye, and received yet another eye roll.

The lady smiled at them, adjusting her tiny glasses. Corvo guessed her to be around fifty.

“Welcome to my studio. My name is Sarnai Khulan. This course is directed to people who want to try out yoga, but have no prior experience. We will work according to what I was taught when I studied the art as a young woman in Wei-Ghon.

“Now, most of you probably have some idea what yoga is. Sources place its origin somewhere in the northern Pandyssia, from where it then spread all across the world. Wei-Ghon has traditionally been seen as one of the main locations of yoga’s origins when it comes to the Isles.”

Sarnai smiled again and Corvo saw her eye twinkle towards them. “Yoga can be seen as a practice that has a spiritual aspect, but I recommend approaching it with a practical point of view. It is an excellent form of exercise, and during this course my main goal is to teach you how to practice safely. You will most likely notice improvements in your physical health, but if you have any old injuries, I’d like to know about them.”

“Like choreographed stretching’s going to be real exercise.” The voice was so low only Corvo could hear it, and he bit his lip to avoid chuckling. 

Sarnai started the lesson with basic warm up exercises and simple stretches. She started to explain about something called a sun salutation as they got ready, and Corvo noticed her voice had a soothing note; it was easy to focus on her and forget everything else. 

Well, apart from the guy next to him. Whenever he and Corvo glanced at each other, they exchanged that look of solidarity. 

Corvo quickly noticed he was way more out of shape than he’d thought. He had not thought moving from a simple stretch to another would count as exercise, but he was drenched in sweat before they were even halfway through the first set. He thanked every god he could think of for wearing contacts today.

Sarnai stopped them in a position she called a downward dog, and after the younger women were done giggling she started to walk among them, correcting their positions. Corvo tried to stay in the pose, but his hair was obscuring his vision and his shoulders were screaming in agony. Finally he gave up and let his knees come to rest on the mat.

He stole a glance at the guy next to him, and noticed he was struggling as well. Corvo had never thought of himself as particularly flexible, but compared to his neighbor he was doing just fine. 

Sarnai’s soft shuffling footsteps reached them just as the guy gave up with a groan.

“Your calfs will need some time to adjust,” she said as she crouched down between the two of them. The guy gave her an expressionless look, but it was undermined by the sweat rolling down his face. “Let’s give it one more try, shall we?” she asked.

The guy huffed a resigned sigh. Corvo watched as he took the pose again, eyes following Sarnai’s hands as they gently touched here and there; ankles, shoulders, and finally the back of his neck.

“Take it slow,” she murmured. “You can keep your heels up, it helps.” 

She turned to Corvo. “Your turn.”

The guy slumped down with a low groan. Corvo closed his eyes as his hair fell in front of his face, and then tried to hold still as Sarnai gently pushed his shoulders lower and turned his hands into the right position.

The lesson was over much sooner than Corvo expected. He felt like he surfaced from a vivid dream when Sarnai clapped her hands and wished them a good evening.

“I hope to see each of you next week.” Again, Corvo was certain she cast a knowing smile in his direction.

He trudged back into the changing room, feeling simultaneously exhausted and oddly balanced. He could tell he was going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but the clear head felt almost nice enough to actually consider coming again.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said as he stripped away his sweaty shirt. He turned his head and grinned. “And I admit I was wrong about how hard it is.”

The man snorted, but he was smiling. He pulled his own shirt off, and Corvo tore his gaze away.

“Yeah, fine. I underestimated this whole thing. Still feels silly.” His voice was still gruff, but there was a tired sort of satisfaction in it now.

“Are you going to ditch the course?” Corvo didn’t know what made him ask; he was considering actually coming again, and the thought of not having to be the sole man was comforting. That, _and_ the guy was gorgeous.

“You’re actually planning on coming again next week,” the man said with a laugh. Corvo raised an eyebrow. 

“Scared you’ll be unable to keep up?” he shot back. It was just his reflex to snark back, but the guy’s gaze darkened and his smile stretched into a grin. Corvo swallowed. The dressing room felt incredibly small again.

“Fine,” the guy laughed. “I’ll come too. Can’t have you being the only person to fail this class.”

Corvo barked a surprised laugh. He extended his hand.

“I’m Corvo Attano.”

The man’s hand was big and callused. He kept grinning as he shook Corvo’s.

“Daud.”

*

“Daud, can you pick me up from the youth group tonight?” Billie was hastily stuffing her book into her bag while trying to eat a sandwich and pull on a jacket. A glance at the clock told Daud she would need to run to catch her bus.

“What time?” He was definitely not awake enough yet.

“Half past seven.”

Daud nodded and then frowned. It was Thursday. He’d promised to go to the fucking yoga.

“I could be there at eight. I have a—meeting.”

Billie was almost at the door, but she paused to stare. Her brows furrowed, and the newest piercing caught the lamplight. 

“Since when do you have a social life?”

Daud glared at her. She returned the expression. Then understanding dawned on her face, and Daud cursed silently. He should’ve just decided to ditch the damn course.

“You’re actually going to the yoga again.” Billie was grinning so wide it looked like she’d pull a muscle. “Even though you were so grumpy about it last week, and kept groaning about your muscles until Sunday!”

“I did not,” Daud grumbled. He returned his attention to the newspaper. “Eight.”

“This is awesome,” Billie snickered as she finally unlocked the front door. “See you!”

The door slammed closed, and Daud sighed. He poured himself more coffee and tried to will his brain to wake up.

He _should_ have ditched the course. The morning after the first lesson he’d thought he would die; his legs were seized up and his shoulders were so stiff dressing up was a feat in itself. He hadn’t even liked the exercise, he didn’t see a point in twisting yourself into uncomfortable poses only to have a tiny Tyvian lady pad up and insult your form.

He sighed again. Unfortunately that other guy, Corvo, had seen right away how to press the one button of Daud’s that ensured he’d attend again. He couldn’t resist a challenge, even a stupid one like this. The fact that Corvo was ridiculously pretty and had kept blushing while they were changing was only a bonus.

Daud paused as his sleepy thoughts circled back to the mental image of Corvo stretching his arms so that his shirt rode up. He frowned. It wasn’t like him to get caught up on strangers, pretty or not, yet the face of the dark man had been popping up in his mind all week. Daud rubbed his eyes. This was getting better and better.

Sarnai Khulan greeted Daud with a knowing smile when he marched into the studio that same evening. Daud just sighed as he muttered a greeting. 

Corvo was already in the dressing room. He was peering into the tiny mirror set on the wall as he apparently tried to poke himself in the eye. He was wearing the same sweats as last week, but he’d exchanged the ratty t-shirt into a shirtless tank. His hair looked like some small animal might be nesting in it.

“Careful,” Daud grunted as he heaved his bag down. 

Corvo muttered something unintelligible. He frowned furiously, popped the contact lense into his eye, and then blinked with a grimace.

“I hate these fucking things.”

“You got bad eyes?” Daud started to strip. He had been wearing long sleeves last week, but the rashguard had been ridiculously stifling; this week the whole class could see his tattoos, and he tried to ignore the way he tensed up at the thought.

Corvo turned to look at Daud. He shrugged. “Bad enough. I just hate exercising with glasses on.”

“Well, it’s not like you can see anything from behind that mop of hair, so…” Daud drawled before he could do any damage control. He expected Corvo to bristle, but he just stared. Then he started to laugh.

He had a very nice laugh. Corvo looked like a guy who was perpetually tired for some reason, and the laughter banished that.

“My friend keeps telling me to get a haircut,” he finally chuckled. Daud grinned. He shrugged into his shirt and noticed how Corvo’s eyes flicked to the tattoos again. They ended just above his elbows, peeking from the short sleeves.

“You could also just tie it up,” Daud suggested. “I hear wearing your hair on a bun is very fashionable nowadays.”

Corvo’s face twisted into a grimace of such pure horror it was Daud’s turn to laugh. There was a familiar soft knock on the door before either of them could say anything more.

The yoga was just as unbearably difficult as last week. Daud struggled to keep his face expressionless, but he kept slipping. Sarnai came by a few times to correct his poses, and Daud was torn between resenting admiration and burning shame; yoga was so much more awful than he’d ever imagined.

Billie was going to be grounded until she turned twenty.

Daud glanced at Corvo every now and then. He told himself he did it for solidarity, but the truth was the guy was much more flexible than Daud; his poses looked stiff, but at least they looked like poses. Daud was forced to opt for easier versions on almost every stage, because he was apparently as flexible as a two-by-four.

Corvo was sweating and grimacing, but every now and then his face turned thoughtful and calm, and Daud’s gaze was drawn to that. Just like laughter, the flickers of serenity made Corvo look damn good.

By the end of the lesson, Daud was hurting all over. He expected them to wrap up like last week, but instead Sarnai directed each of them to lie on their backs. 

“Close your eyes.” Her voice was always mellow, but only now Daud noticed how pleasant she was to listen to. “Try to focus on your breathing. Let thoughts come and then let them go.”

Daud sighed. His sweat was cooling and his bad knee was throbbing. He tried to concentrate on breathing, but as always, his brain was dead-bent on being loud. He’d tried meditation in the past, and quickly concluded it wasn’t for him.

Corvo cleared his throat next to him. His breaths were steady and even, and Daud listened to him. There was a shuffle as the man shifted on his mat. Daud slightly turned his head. When he peeked, he saw Corvo was frowning. His dark hair was spread around his head like a messy halo.

Daud closed his eyes again with a sigh he barely bit back. He had no idea why Corvo drew his gaze, but apparently the man was so ridiculously his type his brain had fixated on him after meeting twice. Corvo wasn’t as bulky as Daud, but he sure as hell wasn’t skinny. His skin was a pretty shade of brown Daud associated with Serkonos and his youth; when he blushed, his ears were the first to change color. Daud cursed inside his head before focusing on his breaths again.

“Are you originally from Gristol?”

Corvo’s head shot up. For a second Daud feared he’d overstepped, but then the man smiled. He had wrapped a towel around his hips; this week it had been Daud’s turn to shower first.

“No. I’m from Karnaca.” Corvo pronounced the city name with a familiar round vowel, and long-buried homesickness tugged at Daud.

“You speak Serkonan?” Daud asked to take his mind away from the dusting of dark hair covering Corvo’s chest.

 _“Kompreneble, ĝi estas mia gepatra lingvo,”_ Corvo laughed. His eyes crinkled as he started to look curious. “You?”

“Not anymore, I’m afraid.” Daud knew right away he would have listened to Corvo reading a phonebook in Serkonan; he didn’t have much of an accent when he spoke Common, just enough to show he was not a native speaker.

“I moved away from Cullero when I was just a kid,” Daud added to answer Corvo’s unasked question. “My mother wasn’t a southerner, so she had no way of using Serkonan with me.”

Corvo nodded, and Daud belatedly realized he didn’t usually volunteer this information. He looked away as Corvo ducked into the tiny shower. He focused on tying his shoelaces and tried not to think that Corvo was naked just a few meters away from him.

“I’ll see you next week?”

“You bet,” Corvo said with a laugh. “I hope I won’t be as sore tomorrow as last week.”

Daud chuckled. He checked his watch and cursed. “See you then. I’ve got to go, I promised to pick up my daughter.”

Corvo stuck a soapy hand from the shower curtain’s gap and waved, and Daud laughed. He nodded goodbyes to Sarnai as he left, and only as he started his car he realized he’d been smiling as he did.

The local lgbt center was located on the other side of the Draper’s Ward. Daud knew the youth group ended at seven thirty, but that the kids usually hung out afterwards. He was happy Billie was choosing to spend her time at the group instead of with the gang she’d been running with last year. At least the group was hosted by an adult. Maybe she’d make friends there.

Daud parked his car outside of the familiar, old building. He waited for a bit, but when his daughter didn’t deign to show, he grumbled and got out of the car. The evening was getting dark as he walked to the front doors.

The inside of the center was neat and light, the walls decorated with posters and pamphlets just like in the past. The only way to tell he hadn’t suddenly stepped seventeen years into the past was by looking at the dates on the event advertisements. Seeing the faded mural with a rainbow tugged at his heart, because Daud knew this building as well as his own home. When he turned his steps towards the lounge he could hear familiar laughter.

Billie was sitting on a rundown sofa with two other teens. Daud recognized one of them, but the younger girl with a pale, heart-shaped face was unfamiliar.

“Daud!” Billie waved at him. “Hey everyone, this grumpy old man is my father.”

Daud rolled his eyes, which made the kids giggle. “Very funny. Ready to go?”

“We’re waiting for Emily’s dad,” Billie protested. She nudged the arm of the girl in question. Emily had very dark hair and brown eyes. She looked at Daud warily, and he made an effort to look friendlier. He knew his face’s default expression was like from a bad mafia movie.

“Is he supposed to come pick you up?” Daud asked Emily.

“Yes,” the girl said. She glanced at Billie. “He just said he might be a bit late today.”

“Emily’s at the group for the first time!” Billie declared. “So we have to make sure she’s okay.”

To her credit, Emily managed an impressive eye roll, but Daud could see she was pleased. He was, too; Billie was like this when she was at her best, taking care of others.

“Alright,” Daud sighed. He ran his fingers through his damp hair. “What does you father do, Emily?”

Emily gave him a shy smile. “He’s… Sort of a teacher. He also manages the school library.”

“That’s so cool,” Deirdre, the girl Daud recognized, put in. “What about your mom?”

Emily’s lip suddenly wobbled. Billie noticed right away, and before anyone could react she’d taken Emily’s hand in hers. Against her dark skin Emily’s fingers looked almost bone-white.

“You don’t have to tell,” Billie murmured. Emily took a deep breath and managed a smile. She looked at Deirdre, who was blushing furiously under Billie’s glare.

“It’s okay. My mom’s dead. She died four years ago, and it still makes me sad.”

“I’m sorry,” Deirdre murmured. She reached for Emily’s hand, too. 

Daud saw how Emily tried to look brave, and his chest felt tight. Billie wrapped Emily into a hug, and the girl leaned on her as she wiped her eyes.

Footsteps from the door made Daud look up. A man rounded the lobby corner, looking a bit lost. For a second Daud thought he was seeing things, but then Corvo stopped by the sofas and realized Daud was there.

“Dad!” Emily climbed to her feet.

Corvo stopped blinking at Daud and turned to Emily. He smiled. 

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

Emily grinned, the sadness forgotten. “It’s alright. Billie’s dad was also late. They kept me company.”

Corvo’s eyes shot back to Daud, who only managed a helpless wave. Before any of them could react, an office door opened, and a familiar woman wearing a turquoise hijab poked her head through.

“I thought I heard your voice Daud!” 

“Rosana,” Daud greeted her. “Good to see you.” He hadn’t expected to run into familiar people, but it was a nice surprise.

Rosana bustled over and Daud bent down so she could kiss his cheek. Her familiar perfume soothed his nerves.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages!” Rosana crossed her arms and nodded to Billie. “We only get your trouble-maker of a daughter here nowadays.”

“Busy at work,” Daud said. He realized Billie mimicked him under her breath, and when he glared at her she just shrugged.

“That’s what you always say.” She grinned wider again. “Rosana, you have to meet Emily. She came to the group today for the first time!”

Rosana peered around Daud. Emily blinked nervously, but then gave Rosana a shy smile. The woman looked delighted.

“It’s so good to have you here, Emily. I hope you enjoyed the youth group.”

“I did,” Emily said. She glanced at her father. “Dad thought it would be good for me to come, so…”

Daud glanced at Corvo, but the man was looking at his daughter with a smile. It was a soft expression, and suddenly Daud remembered Emily’s words again.

“It was actually your godmother’s idea,” Corvo said to Emily, who nodded. She turned to Rosana.

“Do you know Milla? She told me she used to work here at the centre.”

Rosana’s eyes lit up. “Milla, of course! She said she’s got a new kid.” Her expression was fond. “We’ve been friends for close to twenty years.”

Corvo gave Rosana a warm smile. His eyes flicked to Daud and then back to the hijabi who had turned to grin at Daud.

“Well, old man? Are you planning on returning to the board anytime soon?”

“Dream on,” Daud huffed. “I closed the accounts so many times I still have nightmares.”

“Aw,” Rosana pouted as Billie, Deirdre, and Emily giggled. “You know no one has managed to fill your boots when it comes to balancing the books.”

Daud shrugged, but he was smiling. He knew what Rosana was actually asking, and he also knew the woman wouldn’t press the issue. He didn’t even mind it, nowadays; it was just a pleasant reminder that there was a place that would welcome him back if he ever felt ready.

Corvo was looking at Daud with open curiosity, but before he could ask anything, Emily tugged at his hand. 

“I’m hungry. Can we go get something good tonight?”

Corvo snorted a laugh. “You know it’s not Sunday.”

Emily pouted and then squealed indignantly as Corvo ruffled her hair. The man shot a smile at Daud as they left.

Billie finally extracted herself from the sofa. Daud saw her flexing her right hand with a slight frown. Rosana touched her elbow, and the girl turned her good eye to her to say goodbye.

Billie nodded off in the car. Daud drove through the slowly falling snow and thought about Corvo and Emily; he thought about families, and he didn’t know whether he was feeling happy or sad.

*

Corvo mentally ran through his ever-growing to-do lists as he drove towards the studio. The school library was due a renovation early next year, and he and Callista had to catalogue the books and figure out how to run the library from a spare classroom in the meanwhile. There were a few transfer kids from the neighboring school, and Corvo knew he’d have to devise a schedule to assess how much extra help they needed.

Emily’s shots would have to be done tonight, too. Corvo would have liked to postpone them until the weekend, but Emily wouldn’t hear of it; Corvo knew she marked the days in her own calendar, and was adamant about sticking to the schedule the hormone clinic had proposed. Corvo knew it made no difference if her shots were done a few days apart, but it was important to her. Getting Emily on puberty blockers had been such a hassle, and Corvo was determined to listen to her wishes.

Corvo rubbed his forehead. A headache was thrumming against his skull, and his body felt tired and sluggish. He had briefly considered skipping yoga, but his curiosity got the better of him. After running into Daud at the lgbt center Corvo had been puzzling about the brief exchange between Rosana and the man.

It seemed that Daud had been active at the center at some point. A shadow had passed over his face as Rosana had teased him about coming back, but then he’d only looked tired and grudgingly happy. There must have been something sad in Daud’s past, which in itself was not unusual in Dunwall. His daughter was black, so Corvo guessed Billie might have been adopted; no one had mentioned a partner, and Corvo’s throat felt momentarily tight as he imagined the possibilities.

Sarnai no longer looked smug when Corvo entered. She greeted him with a warm smile, and Corvo returned the expression. He was discovering that apart from making him meet Daud, yoga was also making him feel calmer. Corvo didn’t really care about the spiritual side of the exercise and he knew that objectively he was terrible at it, but something about focusing on the poses for an hour every week made him feel just a touch more centered.

Daud hadn’t arrived yet. Corvo started to change his clothes, head turning over possible ways of bringing the lgbt center up to Daud. He was...intrigued about the man. Corvo had never dated a guy before, but the curiosity had always been there, and Daud was ridiculously Corvo’s type. He was solidly built, but in a way that suggested physical labor and an active lifestyle rather than vanity; apart from the purely physical side, he was also just plain nice.

And it wasn’t like Daud was the only one with tragedy in his past.

Corvo found a spare hair tie at the bottom of his bag as he looked for his shirt. He snorted and then considered spending yet another hour with his mop of hair hanging in front of his face. Right as he was trying to tie it back, the door swung open and Daud stepped in.

Daud took one look at Corvo, frozen with his hair gathered up, and his lips started to twitch. Corvo leveled a glare at him.

“Not a single word.”

Daud quickly turned away, and through the mirror Corvo saw his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Corvo sighed as he resumed the battle with his hair. He’d inherited his mother’s curls, and now that they reached almost all the way to his shoulders they were getting downright impossible to tame.

“Maybe I’ll just reconsider getting that haircut,” Corvo groaned as the strands slipped out of his fingers for the fifth time. There was a reason Emily never asked for help with her hair. “Callista was recommending a new barbershop this week.”

He lowered his aching arms, but before he managed anything else Daud stepped closer. Corvo saw he wasn’t wearing a shirt, but before he could appreciate the tattoos Daud reached to pluck the hair tie from his slack hand. 

Then there were warm fingers carding through his hair. Corvo saw how wide his eyes went, but before he could get embarrassed he registered how amazing it felt. The tension bled out, and he swayed back a little. There was a warm huff of air at the back of his neck as Daud chuckled.

“Been doing Billie’s hair since she was a baby. Your curls are nothing compared to hers.”

Blunt fingers scratched against Corvo’s scalp, and he only vaguely registered that he should probably answer. The thoughts vanished as they came, because Corvo could feel Daud radiating heat behind his back. He wanted to press closer, and before he thought the action through he did.

Daud’s fingers went still as Corvo’s back connected with his bare chest. There was a soft inhale, Corvo’s heart sped up, and then through the mirror he saw Daud’s smile soften. He finished tying off the ponytail, but before he stepped back he ran his fingers lightly down the back of Corvo’s neck.

Corvo knew he was blushing furiously, but the touch had felt so nice. Daud had initiated it, and he hadn’t backed away, and half of Corvo wanted to press the man against the dressing room wall and—

Sarnai’s knock made both of them jump. Corvo cleared his throat and ran a hand down his face to force himself back to reality. Daud shot a sideways glance at Corvo, and then they both looked away as they started to laugh.

Corvo thought he couldn’t focus, not when his whole body was buzzing with awareness. He and Daud took their customary places at the back of the gym, and Corvo stole a few glances at the man before they started from the beginning of the first series. Daud’s eyes met him, and in the dim lighting his eyes looked bottomless.

His mind grew quiet towards the first salutation. Corvo allowed thoughts to draw back in favor of listening to his breaths and Sarnai’s instructions. He was still aware of Daud, just a few feet away from him, wearing a sleeveless shirt so almost all of his tattoos were visible, but it wasn’t nervous and agitated. Corvo slowly waded through options as he moved, satisfied that he could already remember how the series flowed.

Daud no longer looked like he was suffering through the lessons, either. His face was focused and closed off, and his breaths were coming easier. He still struggled with the poses that demanded flexibility, but even after a few weeks Corvo could see the difference. It looked like Daud, too, had found something unexpected from the lessons.

Sarnai called for the short meditation towards the end. Corvo glanced at Daud, expecting to see the man rolling his eyes, but he was surprised. Daud was already looking at him, with a thoughtful expression that twitched into a small smile as they locked eyes. Corvo swallowed as he laid down, and he tried to reach for the quiet place inside his head.

He kept listening to Daud’s breathing. It was deep and measured, and Corvo imagined pressing his hand against the man’s sternum; he tried to imagine how the movement would feel under his palm. The thought made him stifle a smile, because it felt simultaneously exciting and silly.

As Corvo walked back to the dressing room, he was aware of the tension as it built back up. They didn’t say anything, but as he undressed for the shower Corvo saw Daud resolutely looking the other way; his neck was bright red, and for some reason the sight made Corvo flush with pleasure.

He lingered as Daud showered, dressing up as slowly as possible. It felt like a mistake when Daud stepped out of the shower wearing just a towel. Corvo’s mouth went very dry. Daud’s dark hair was sticking up and he was flushed, and Corvo tried and failed to avoid imagining how it would feel to trail his tongue along the tattoos sneaking up Daud’s chest and arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbled when he realized he was staring. Daud just chuckled and nudged his elbow.

Corvo waited for Daud to get most of his clothes back on before he finally drew in a breath. His mind was a vortex of scary, exciting options. He had to dare, this once.

“Daud,” Corvo begun. He turned around, and Daud was already looking at him. He stopped buttoning his shirt and cocked his head. 

Corvo cleared his throat. “Do you— Do you want to go get dinner someday?”

His heart was beating entirely too fast, and Corvo could feel the weight he always carried; four years alone, first two of them in mourning and then another two healing and learning to live again, and now he was burning up with curiosity after meeting this gruff man. Corvo had never asked a guy out before.

Daud’s mouth twitched up into a smile. Before Corvo could react that same shadow crossed his face before clearing away. Daud stepped closer and then very slowly cupped Corvo’s cheek. Corvo knew the man would see he was so nervous his head was getting dizzy.

Up close, Daud’s expression softened again. He ran his thumb down Corvo’s cheek, the touch leaving sparks in its wake.

“I…” Daud drew in a deep breath and then exhaled. Corvo could feel it against his mouth. “I have to think about it.”

Corvo felt a flash of disappointment, but then he looked closer. Daud’s eyes were tight, like he was thinking very hard, and Corvo understood. It was not a _no,_ but rather a _not yet._ Without thinking, Corvo leaned into Daud’s touch.

“Okay,” he got out. His smile lost the nervous tension. “Okay.”

The evening air was crisp. It cleared Corvo’s head as he walked to his car. He knew he was smiling. His gut was tight with excitement, because this was the first real step towards anything even remotely dating-related since Jess had died. Corvo knew that he’d needed four years to recover; now it felt like Jess was watching over him as he most likely made a fool of himself.

The sound of running footsteps drew his head up, and Corvo forgot about unlocking his car doors when Daud jogged up to him. He was still flushed after the shower, and before Corvo could ask what he needed, the man cupped his cheeks and leaned in.

Daud’s lips were thin and soft, and he smelled of oud. Corvo gasped as he realized what was happening and then he was kissing back without thinking. His hands landed on Daud’s arms to tug him closer as he parted his lips.

Daud was smiling into the kiss. Corvo’s head spun as he felt Daud bury his fingers into his damp hair and grip the strands. His breaths became shallow as Daud tasted him, with all the time in the world, pressing him against his car. It was entirely different than kissing a woman, but Corvo knew right away he’d be ruined for any other guy; Daud’s presence commanded every bit of his attention, and Corvo felt almost delicate compared to him. It was new and made him mirror Daud’s smile.

Finally Daud pulled back. He licked his lips and looked embarrassed, but didn’t pull away.

“Sorry,” he said. His voice was low and rougher than usual. “I just—”

Corvo grinned. He slid his arms around Daud’s waist, and when the man rocked closer, he squeezed. 

“I don’t mind.” Corvo knew he was smiling like a fool, but Daud just chuckled. His nose wrinkled when he smiled wide enough.

“Saturday?” Daud murmured. Corvo had thought he wasn’t capable of blushing, but there was a delicious redness riding high on his cheeks now. Corvo wanted to run his fingers over it. He realized Daud was waiting for an answer. 

“Saturday sounds good.”

His stomach was a tight knot of nerves, but Corvo could see he wasn’t the only one. Daud’s smile turned a bit lopsided as he relaxed against Corvo. He couldn’t remember which one of them leaned back in.

*

On Friday evening, Daud knocked on Billie’s door. He’d just come home, and going by the voices his daughter had a friend over. The music paused and Billie murmured something. Then the door cracked open just enough to show her face.

“What do you want?”

Daud raised an eyebrow. “Hello to you as well. Got a minute?”

Billie gave a long-suffering sigh. She turned back towards her friend, whom Daud still couldn’t see through the doorway. “I’ll be right back.”

Daud went back into the kitchen, and Billie trailed after him.

“Well?”

Daud crossed his arms. “Would you manage tomorrow evening by yourself?”

Delight flashed in Billie’s eyes. Daud had not allowed her to be alone at home after the candle incident, but that had been over a year ago.

“Sure,” she said. “You got more work?”

Daud didn’t know what made him shake his head. It wasn’t Billie’s business, but somehow lying or even omitting the truth felt wrong.

“No, I, uh. I have a date.”

Billie narrowed her good eye. “A date?” She pronounced the word like associating it with Daud caused her some kind of mental pain. “With whom?”

“None of your damn business,” Daud grunted. “You can order takeout and have a friend over if you wish. On the condition that it’s one friend and I get to call their parents beforehand.”

Billie finally overcame her stupor. “A date? Seriously?”

Daud rolled his eyes. Billie scratched her hair, eyes wide and a grin taking over her face. 

“Oh man. You haven’t been on a date since… _Ever._ ” Coming from anyone else, Daud would have been insulted. As it was, Billie’s voice grew a little softer towards the end. 

Daud just nodded. He didn’t know what to say. Without a word, Billie stepped closer and hugged him. When she drew back, the grin was making a comeback.

“Is it someone from the yoga?”

Daud sighed as he let her go. “Let me know who you want to have over before it’s too late to call their parents.”

He regretted making that allowance exactly twenty minutes later, when Emily Attano walked downstairs with Billie. She was dressed in a woollen dress that looked extremely neat next to Billie’s ripped jeans and piercings. She was carrying what looked like a flute case.

“Hi,” she greeted Daud with a shy smile. “Billie said I could come over tomorrow?”

There was definitely a pained sweat building up at Daud’s back now. He nodded mutely, and before he could come up with anything the doorbell rang. Emily looked at Billie.

“That must be my dad. He promised to give me a ride to the music lesson.”

“You can ask him about tomorrow,” Billie said with an enthusiastic smile. Daud was distantly glad that the two girls were becoming friends, but most of his brain was occupied with how to avoid his daughter from springing this trap on Corvo.

His luck showed no signs of turning. Billie opened the door and Corvo stepped in. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was once again a veritable riot. He blinked when he saw Daud staring at him and then gave him a smile.

“Hi,” he said before turning to Emily. “Ready to go? Your teacher will be pissed off if we’re late again.”

Emily nodded. “Billie asked if I could come over tomorrow evening.”

Corvo looked at Billie and then his eyes darted to Daud. Billie grinned.

“My dad’s got a date. He said I don’t need a babysitter if I get company.”

In a split second Daud saw Corvo blush furiously. There was a distinct agonizing hotness crawling up his own neck. 

Neither of them spoke, and the girls stared at them. Billie was starting to look suspicious. 

“I mean—” Corvo blurted out. He looked at Daud pleadingly. 

Emily tugged at Corvo’s sleeve with a frown. “You were talking about going to see a friend anyway.”

Daud saw the exact moment when his daughter figured it out. Billie’s eyes went huge and then she started to shake with laughter. He opened his mouth to do any sort of damage control, but he was way too slow. Billie turned to point at Daud.

“You’re going on a date with Emily’s dad!”

Billie was again looking halfway between horrified and gleeful. She turned to Emily, who was staring at her father. Corvo opened and closed his mouth, but no sounds came.

Daud caught Corvo’s eye, and he sagged. He made a nondescript gesture, as if to say ‘we lost this round.’

“Well… Yeah.” Daud rubbed at his neck. He wasn’t used to feeling awkward.

Corvo looked at Emily. “I was going to tell you today,” he said in an embarrassed tone. Emily’s eyes darted between him and Daud, and then her mouth opened in an incredulous _oh_. 

“They met at yoga! We were right!”

Before Daud fully understood the words, both of the girls succumbed to a hysterical giggling fit, leaving Corvo and Daud staring at them and each other. Emily actually moved to lean on Billie when her knees threatened to buckle.

“Oh Void,” Billie gasped, tears running from her eyes. “I can’t believe this.” She hung onto Emily’s arm as they laughed. Corvo’s helpless look grew more intense.

Daud rubbed his eyes. He was getting a headache.

***

Corvo turned up at the restaurant wearing a pair of nice jeans and a deep green button-up that looked like it was his favorite shirt. Daud didn’t even try to conceal taking him in, because Corvo’s hair was in a neat ponytail, and he looked gorgeous as he flushed slightly.

“I take it Emily helped you with that?” Daud asked and indicated the ponytail. Corvo groaned and then nodded with a smile.

“She insisted. Somehow I got the feeling she was more into this date than me.”

Daud frowned, but then Corvo turned and met his eye. “Not that it’s likely, but…” he hastily said. His eyes fell to the floor and he took a deep breath. “Void. I’m really giving you a good impression, am I?”

Daud chuckled. He stepped closer as they waited for a free table, and brushed his fingers down Corvo’s arm. “You’re doing just fine.” It got him a smile.

The restaurant was an informal, small bistro that specialized in Serkonan and southern Pandyssian cuisine. Daud had suggested it on a whim. It was a small, intimate space, new enough not to be crowded on a Saturday night. The smells coming from the kitchen were promising, and once they were seated Daud forgot about his nerves.

Corvo was just as alluring as before, but he was also smart and soft-spoken. Daud learned he worked as a teaching assistant and a school librarian. Their knees pressed together under the table, and Daud expected to feel awkward with the physical contact, but he didn’t. Corvo asked about his work, and Daud ended up spilling the whole sob story of how he’d only meant to take up security system assemblies as a side gig and ended up owning half a firm. 

“It’s mostly boring work, but it pays decently,” Daud explained when they stepped back out into the cold evening air. “My friend Thomas started it and nowadays I do the customer end of jobs, because apparently I’m scary enough so no one tries to weasel out of paying.”

Corvo grinned. “I can’t imagine why.” 

They’d drank wine, and his smiles had lost that nervous edge. Daud snorted. The silence that followed was easy, and without thinking he stepped closer and carefully placed his hand on Corvo’s waist. Corvo’s smile grew and he shuffled closer.

“I really enjoyed this.” Daud heard the mild surprise in his voice. Corvo did, too.

“Not much of a dater?” he asked, voice lilting up playfully. 

“Void, no.” Daud gave up playing coy and pulled Corvo closer, until their chests pressed together. “I think Billie sprained something when she found out I was going out.”

Corvo sniggered. His arms settled around Daud’s neck. “Well, if it makes you feel better, this is my first date in…” Corvo trailed off, frowning. “Shit, I don’t even remember. I think Jess must’ve taken me out when we first got together.”

His eyes turned sad at the words, but he didn’t look away. His face was suddenly so vulnerable Daud wanted to hug him.

“Jess was my wife. She died four years ago. The Plague.”

Daud squeezed Corvo and grimaced. “I’m sorry.” The Plague was mostly history by now, but it seemed there was no one who’d managed to skirt a loss.

“She was a politician. The youngest woman to ever secure a seat in the parliament.” Corvo’s expression was still fragile, but what looked like nostalgia made him smile. “The left wing even tried to rope me into joining the party after her death, just to keep the legacy of the Kaldwin family alive.”

“Kaldwin? _Jessamine_ Kaldwin?” Daud repeated dumbly. He blinked as memories sprang up. “I knew of her. She did a lot of good work with less fortunate families.”

Corvo nodded. Then he cleared his throat and looked vaguely embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to bring her up, I swear, but… I haven’t been dating since she died, _and_ I’ve never dated a guy. So I guess I wanted to explain why I’m so damn awkward.”

Daud gave in to the temptation and pressed a kiss to the corner of Corvo’s mouth. “Thank you for telling me.”

He was feeling strangely loose, almost relieved. Daud remembered Emily telling about her mother’s death to Billie, and having Corvo’s side of the story made it gain substance. Daud knew Corvo took a risk by telling about a dead spouse with whom he’d had a child; some people would leg it at either, if brought up at a first date.

Daud looked at Corvo and he felt more certain that agreeing to the date had been a good idea. 

Corvo’s anxiety slipped away, and then he was craning his head up to kiss Daud. He tasted of the wine they’d drunk, and Daud tugged him still closer as he parted his lips. It was just as slow as the kisses they’d shared a few days ago, but Daud’s stomach made a swoop as Corvo’s tongue brushed his. It came and went slowly, and Daud found himself chasing that. Kissing Corvo was addictive.

Daud knew he was most definitely out of practice, but Corvo didn’t seem to mind. He kissed Daud with a delicious small smile, with just enough teeth and tongue that it was skirting the edges of improper. Daud allowed the rest of the world to slip away and enjoyed how warm and solid Corvo was. 

He’d expected guilt over this. Daud hadn’t been looking for anything, he was slow to warm up to new people, yet here he was: kissing Corvo Attano whom he’d met three weeks ago, and feeling like his life had been turning ever so slightly on the wrong axis until now. Kissing Corvo felt good, and Daud knew he was getting his hopes up.

When they parted, Corvo’s breathing was hot against his mouth. Daud knew he was grinning like an idiot. 

“Damn,” Corvo said with a slightly dazed look. 

“You can say that again,” Daud murmured. It came out teasing, and Corvo’s blush deepened.

“I’d like to go out again,” Daud added before he managed to talk himself out of the light, bubbly joy. He wanted to soak it in, because he’d lived without it for fifteen years.

Corvo assuaged his worries by nodding right away. He bit his lip. 

“Is it too forward to invite you over? Emily goes to her aunt’s next weekend.”

Daud cocked his head as he considered it. He was on the verge of suggesting something else when he remembered Corvo’s show of trust just minutes earlier.

“I’d like that,” Daud said instead. “Not to stay the night, but—”

“No, I mean, I didn’t mean that,” Corvo blurted out with an embarrassed expression. “Just to cook and watch a movie?”

Daud laughed. He allowed himself to feel happy as he leaned back in for another kiss.

***

By Thursday Corvo knew he was getting nervous about the upcoming weekend. Emily’s aunt would pick her up Saturday morning, and Daud would come over in the afternoon. And somehow Corvo was supposed to attend yoga today and not be obvious about how much he wanted whatever was building between him and Daud to last. 

Emily had enjoyed spending time with Billie, at least. When she came back home on Sunday, she immediately told him Daud had looked extremely absentminded the whole evening. She had been in a bit of a huff when she’d had to correct her surname was Kaldwin, not Attano, too.

Emily had asked about the date. She at least had tried to be coy about it. Corvo had told her it had gone well, vaguely worried that she’d find it weird he was sort of dating the dad of her friend. She’d just looked entirely too pleased with herself. Corvo didn’t doubt for a second that Billie had subjected Daud to a third-degree on Sunday.

Corvo was the first one in the dressing room again. He dug through his haphazard bag and reflected on how ridiculous it felt to have an honest-to-gods crush. His belly was a knot of nervous energy, and just the knowledge he’d get to see Daud today had had him smiling the whole day. It lit up the world in a way he had forgotten. His boss Callista had noticed something had changed by now, and her teasing had been relentless.

Corvo could hear someone come in through the door. The voice greeting Sarnai was male but unfamiliar. He shrugged and tied his hair back, and when he exited the changing room his eyes landed on the lithe man talking to the yoga teacher. 

He was pale, and his black hair was just carelessly tousled enough to tell he probably spent a lot of time getting it to look that way. Sarnai was looking at him with a warm smile as he talked about what sounded like a trip around Pandyssia.

“It was, of course, nice to come back,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m sorry my trip got you saddled with the basics course.”

Sarnai waved her hand, bracelets clinking. “Pish-posh. I’m excited to see what new tricks you’ve learned.”

The bell tinkled, freezing air blew through the foyer, and Daud gave Corvo a small smile as he came in. The new guy turned to stare at him. Daud realized something was amiss when he finished kicking off his shoes.

“Can I help you?” he asked the guy with a wary frown. 

“So Sarnai did get you to stay. Curious.” The black-haired guy cocked his head. Then he wheeled around, almost as if sensing Corvo’s eyes on himself. 

His eyes were an unsettlingly pale shade of green. Corvo met his gaze with a shrug he hoped to pass for a greeting. Something about the situation was making him feel intensely awkward. 

“Sarnai mentioned she had two men on the course,” the stranger went on when no one said anything. “Fascinating.”

Corvo saw Daud roll his eyes. He slipped into the dressing room, evidently to escape the weird stranger. Sarnai finally chuckled, breaking the ice.

“Adriano usually teaches the basics.” She looked thoroughly amused by something.

The guy pursed his lips in a way that reminded Corvo of Emily’s sulk. “You could have afforded me the mystery of remaining nameless, Sarnai.”

Before the conversation could become any weirder, Corvo escaped into the gym. He dragged his mat to the customary spot in the back and sat down. He wasn’t here this early, usually. The rest of the people were trickling in, nodding to him as they took their spots. Corvo exhaled and tried to find the steady space inside his head; something about the new guy, Adriano, had thrown him off the loop.

Daud slipped into the gym right before Sarnai and the stranger did. He rolled his eyes at Corvo again as he took his place. Corvo stifled a smile and turned his head to see Adriano had apparently changed his clothes too, and was now wearing a pair of those skin-tight pants he had only seen the women on the course use.

It should have looked ridiculous, Corvo thought. Maybe it did, but the guy was slender and built like a bird, and he looked perfectly at home as he exchanged a few words with Sarnai before she sat down on the side.

Corvo realized with a jolt that she was not instructing them today. He didn’t know why he felt disappointed by that.

“Greetings.” Adriano’s voice was smooth as he let his eyes flit from one person to another. “I will be teaching you tonight. I’m usually in charge of beginners here, but due to my studies I will be splitting the time with Sarnai this spring.”

Corvo could _hear_ Daud rolling his eyes again.

The new guy was good. Corvo could tell, as a teacher, that he knew his stuff and was able to direct them through the series. His style was just profoundly different from Sarnai’s warm rapport, and it took Corvo a while to convince himself that he could get used to it. 

Adriano started to circle among them when they reached the pose where they stepped forward with one foot and then reached up. Corvo could hear him murmur instructions as he tried not to sway, tried to remember the breathing trick Sarnai had taught them last week.

He didn’t hear the guy approach, and when a hand landed against the small of his back he jumped and almost tripped. Corvo could feel himself blush crimson, but Adriano merely waited for him to fix his pose.

“Don’t twist your leg too much,” he said 

“It’s fine,” Corvo mumbled. The guy smiled, thin and gone as soon as he recognized the expression.

“What’s your name?”

“Corvo.” A small voice inside Corvo’s head pointed out that giving your name to what he was increasingly suspecting of being a supernatural entity was probably not a good call. 

Adriano nodded, as if satisfied. Corvo’s front leg was starting to tremble under the strain of holding the pose.

“Virabhadrasana is more difficult than it looks,” Adriano finally said. Then he moved on without an explanation, and Corvo gave up trying to hold his arms up. He rolled his shoulders, and only then noticed that Daud was staring at Adriano’s back like he wanted to set his thin shirt aflame with his mind alone.

Adriano was more demanding than Sarnai. By the time Corvo collapsed onto his mat for the meditation, his back was slick with sweat and his arms felt like jelly. The guy had made them stay in downward dog for what felt like half of the lesson, circling the room like a shark and zooming in on minute flaws with uncanny precision.

Corvo couldn’t decide whether to be faintly irritated or impressed by the level of knowledge Adriano possessed. He was certainly a good instructor, but Corvo worried whether this would finally be the straw that broke Daud’s back about yoga. Daud had not looked happy whenever Adriano poked and prodded him.

Corvo didn’t want Daud to ditch the course. They would keep meeting outside of it, by now Corvo was fairly certain of that, but coming to the lessons alone didn’t hold as much appeal.

Daud looked sullen when they finally walked back to the dressing room. Corvo stayed quiet and let him brood; he guessed Daud would not appreciate him poking his nose into this. He was just trying to tug the hair tie free when Daud finally opened his mouth.

“What did you think of him?”

When Corvo turned to look, Daud looked slightly less annoyed. He even smiled when he saw the tie was tangled up in Corvo’s curls. Without a word, he gestured for Corvo to turn around. 

“I...don’t know,” Corvo mumbled. Daud’s fingers were warm as he tried to sort the tangle determined to ingest the elastic tie. The touch was distracting, in a good way.

“He looked like he was delighted every time he got to poke at my legs and tell me I’m stiff,” Daud grumbled. Corvo’s scalp burned slightly as Daud finally tugged the tie free. “Sorry. It was stuck. Get one of those that look like a telephone cord, next time.”

“You don’t like him,” Corvo said to avoid addressing the fact that Daud knew so much about hair care. He turned around, only to find that Daud had not moved away. His mouth went dry when Daud suddenly grinned.

“I’m gonna show that asshole,” Daud said in a low tone. “If he thinks he can make me quit, he’s got another thing coming.”

Corvo blinked. He had...not expected that.

Daud finally turned away to find his towel. “He seemed to like you well enough, though.”

As if on cue, the door creaked open and Adriano walked in. He nodded to Corvo, ignored Daud completely, and started to strip away the ridiculous pants he was wearing. Corvo snapped his eyes back to his own clothes, but when Daud disappeared into the shower the room somehow seemed to grow even smaller.

“You figured out the pose well,” the guy said. He looked completely immune to the stifling awkwardness that was making Corvo break out in a cold sweat. “I could almost be fooled to think you’ve done yoga before.”

“Thanks?” Corvo shucked his shirt and tried to think of a way to hold a conversation with a half-naked stranger who didn’t think blinking was all that necessary. The quiet that followed was intercepted with the sounds of running water.

“I’ve been teaching here for six years now,” Adriano finally went on, running his fingers through his black hair and looking somewhere in the direction of Corvo’s left ear. “I’m studying at the university, but this is my main job. What do you do?”

The question came too quick, and Corvo spent a second trying to remember where he actually worked.

“I’m a TA. At an elementary school.”

“Oh.” Adriano cocked his head like some kind of a curious bird. “Surprising.”

“No, it’s not,” Daud grumbled as he stepped out of the shower. He glared at Adriano, who for all intents and purposes could have been staring straight through him. 

Corvo decided he’d had enough, and escaped into the shower. He ducked his head under the spray to avoid hearing anything. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh at the situation or hide in the stall until the new guy left.

When he exited the stall, Daud was glaring daggers at his bag. Adriano breezed past him into the shower, and Corvo looked straight ahead to avoid acknowledging that the guy hadn’t bothered to wrap his towel around himself.

He and Daud left together. Sarnai bid them good night, and when the cold air hit his face Corvo finally allowed the laughter to bubble free. Daud turned to stare at him.

“What?” he grunted. 

“You’re pouting.”

Daud’s eye roll was familiar by now. “No, I’m not. I just think he’s a git.”

Corvo sniggered. He didn’t think about it, just stepped closer. Daud’s arms snuck around his waist, and Corvo tucked his nose under his ear. The rest of the agitation melted away just like that.

“I was more worried you’d want to quit yoga because you don’t like the new instructor,” Corvo said. His lips brushed the warm skin on Daud’s neck, and the man shivered slightly.

“Like hell,” Daud said. He didn’t sound pissed off any longer. “I just think he could be a little less obvious with the way he flirts with you.”

Corvo stayed quiet, thinking back. He had not thought Adriano was flirting with him, but in retrospect…

“Jealous?” he quipped back to avoid thinking about anything he would get nightmares over.

Daud pulled back with an amused snort. “Do I have a reason to be?” he shot back. There was a slight tension in his frame, but it melted away when Corvo leaned closer.

“No,” he said before kissing Daud.

***

“Emily tells me you’re seeing someone.” Delilah was not drinking the tea Corvo had made. Her eyes were sharp and extremely curious. Corvo sighed as he sat down with his own mug.

“Yeah.” He hoped, in vain, that if he didn’t volunteer more information Delilah would let it be.

Delilah narrowed her eyes at him. “And?”

“We met at yoga,” Corvo said, knowing that starting like that was bound to raise more questions.

“Yeah, Emily told me you actually stuck with that.” Delilah looked like she wanted to laugh. “Is she the reason?”

Corvo mentally swallowed and then decided to just plough on. “Not really. And—his name is Daud.”

Delilah’s eyebrows shot so high they nearly vanished into her spiky hair. Corvo forced himself not to fidget as she processed the news.

“Well.” Delilah finally took a sip of her tea. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

Corvo frowned, and she smiled again. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m as queer as the day is long. I just never knew you swung both ways.”

“He’s that special,” Corvo said in a perfect monotone, and Delilah snorted tea up her nose. Her eyes were warm when she looked at him again. 

“Daud, you said?” She tapped her lip. “Why does that name sound vaguely familiar?”

Corvo shrugged, and luckily that was the moment Emily came pounding down the stairs.

“Can we go, auntie?” She was practically glowing with excitement, and Corvo knew Delilah had promised to take her to see a musical the same night.

“Say goodbye to your grumpy old dad.” Delilah still looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but Emily was chattering about the play, and Corvo took the opportunity to rinse the mugs and pretend he didn’t notice her quirked eyebrow. 

The house felt too quiet once they were gone. Corvo sat down in the kitchen and tried to gather his thoughts. It was good to have a weekend to himself every now and then. Delilah was busy with her classes, but she had been making an effort to spend time with her niece in the past three years.

Jessamine and Delilah had not been on speaking terms when Corvo met Jess. She’d only vaguely alluded to her half-sister on a few occasions, and it had taken Corvo almost six years to learn the full story. He didn’t like to think about the ugly saga Jessamine had finally spilled when her father had died. Neither did Jess, but when she fell sick with the Plague it quickly became clear that Emily would soon be without any relatives besides her dad, unless Jess and Delilah made up.

It hadn’t been easy. Jess died before she and her sister truly got through their bad blood. Delilah grieved in her own way, and in the first year it was too painful to grow closer. Then, as life gradually went on, she started to write letters to Emily. Then they discovered their shared love for theatre, and from there it had been easier.

Corvo didn’t know whether he exactly liked Delilah, but she was there; an eccentric art teacher, a semi-famous stand-up performer, and, most importantly, Emily’s aunt.

Daud rang the doorbell at half past three. Corvo set the knife down and wiped his hands before going to open the door. Daud’s face split into a grin when he laid eyes on the apron Corvo was wearing.

“And here I thought we were supposed to cook together,” he said as he stepped in. Corvo rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, too. Inviting Daud into his home felt simultaneously exciting and the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t know if they make aprons wide enough,” he teased. Daud barked a laugh, and then he stepped closer. A flicker or uncertainty crossed his face, but it transformed into a warm smile as Corvo pressed against him.

Daud was so solid. He was wide and tall, and his hands felt safe as they tipped Corvo’s face up into a kiss. Corvo kept expecting to feel weird about being the physically smaller person, but it had never happened. It was easy to lean on Daud, easy to part his lips and weave his fingers into the dark, short hair. Corvo had not shaved, and he idly wondered how it would feel to kiss Daud when he hadn’t either. 

Daud kissed him slowly, like they had all the time in the world. At first he was just carding his fingers through Corvo’s hair, but suddenly Corvo felt him tug slightly. When he drew back and felt his head, he realized Daud had tied his hair back.

“You’re welcome,” Daud laughed. He looked more comfortable, and Corvo flushed with pleasure. It was almost domestic.

Back in the kitchen Daud let his eyes wander. “So, what are we making?” He looked curious, and Corvo felt the rest of his nerves melt away. This was foreign territory for them both, but talking to Daud was still easy.

“Do you like fish?” Corvo realized he should have probably asked beforehand.

Daud nodded. His eyes landed on the bowl of shredded, pale fish, and then they brightened. His smile grew wider as a nostalgic twist softened it.

“Bacalhau?” 

Corvo just nodded. He decided he really liked the way Daud looked right then, surprised and happy.

Cooking with new people was always a gamble. Corvo had discovered that he preferred having the full reign over the kitchen, because he hated bumping into someone else while he cooked. He’d planned on pouring Daud a glass of wine and sitting him down to keep company, but before he knew it Daud was in his space, whisking the eggs; Corvo finished chopping the onions as they talked about their favorite childhood foods, and only when he started to fry the potatoes he realized he and Daud mixed well.

They didn’t stumble. More often than not they worked side by side, arms pressed together, Corvo resting his cheek against Daud’s shoulder, or Daud touching the back of Corvo’s neck gently. It reminded Corvo of cooking with Jess, but in a good way. They had been in sync, too. Jess had been Gristol-born and allergic to fish, but she’d loved Serkonan food. Cooking for her had been one of Corvo’s favorite ways of showing his love.

Cooking with Daud was different and yet it wasn’t. The silences between them grew more and more comfortable, and as the food was simmering on the deep pan, Daud tugged him closer and they stood there together, enjoying the proximity and the quiet.

“I like this,” Corvo murmured before he could stop himself. “I like you.”

He could feel Daud smile against his temple, and when he risked a peek, Daud was looking at him with soft eyes. There was that familiar melancholy lurking at the edge of his gaze, but it didn’t make Corvo feel awkward. He knew he could wait if Daud needed time. Corvo just wanted to find words to say he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Being with Daud was becoming something special. It filled Corvo with a gentle glow of hope.

“I like you too,” Daud said very quietly. Corvo tried to hear whether there was a _but_ hiding somewhere, but there wasn’t. The shadow cleared away, and Daud kissed him. It was slow and sweet, but when Daud’s tongue ran against Corvo’s bottom lip he opened up with a soft inhale. His arms were around Daud’s neck, fingers running over the pulse that was trying to kick up, and Corvo made a pleased hum as Daud pressed against him chest to toe, one hand on his hip and the other running up and down his back.

 _There’s something here,_ Corvo thought as the kiss deepened. _Something so important._

The timer rang, and Corvo felt like they surfaced from a vivid dream. His lips felt soft and hot, and there was that delicious blush on Daud’s face again. Neither of them backed away until the oil on the pan started to pop insistently.

***

Corvo woke up slowly. He was feeling warm and sleepy, his brain still a comfortable mush through which his thoughts trickled. His bedroom curtains were closed, but he could tell by the light it was late. He rarely slept in. Then he registered the warm weight pressing against his back. 

Daud was still asleep. His hair was sticking out and his face was slack and peaceful. Even the severe scar was tempered by his relaxation, and Corvo traced the jagged line with a featherlight touch.

They hadn’t slept together. Corvo was still wearing his boxers, and so was Daud. Corvo remembered how both of them had started to nod off during the movie, and how he’d blurted out the offer.

_“You can stay over, if you want to. Just for sleep.”_

Daud had considered him with a faint frown. Just as Corvo had started to feel like he had maybe overstepped, Daud had smiled and agreed. 

There had been a brief moment of awkwardness as they undressed, both of them trying to judge what to wear to avoid suffocating to death but to remain proper, but then Daud had huffed a laugh and taken his shirt off. They had fallen asleep while facing each other, with Corvo’s fingers dancing over the tattoo pattern stretched over Daud’s right shoulder.

Daud opened his eyes and smiled. He looked to be more than half asleep, and before Corvo could react Daud pulled him closer. He settled against the warm skin, and felt all breath go out of him.

Void, but this was getting bad. Or good, depending on who you asked. 

“Mornin’.” Daud’s voice was a rough drawl. Corvo allowed his hand to settle over his ribs, pressing still closer. He hadn’t shared a bed with anyone after Jess died. Corvo dared to imagine waking up next to Daud again, and he knew he must have been smiling.

“Morning,” he echoed. “Sleep well?”

Daud nodded. His fingers were sorting through Corvo’s hair again. “Better than in a while. Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Corvo felt the blush coming. “Uh. Yeah.”

Daud grinned. He was more alert, but the softness of sleep lingered, and Corvo’s heart jumped. Their legs were tangled under the blankets, and it would be so easy to kiss Daud, morning breath be damned, just to drown in him completely. It would be easy to imagine this becoming something steady, because Corvo had already indulged in the wish. He knew what was happening to his heart.

Daud’s eyes turned more serious and his hand stopped. Corvo had just enough time to panic about wearing his heart on his sleeve when Daud spoke.

“I don’t… I don’t usually do this.”

“This?” 

Daud’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “Go on dates. Sleep next to someone.” He sounded a little wondering, like he, too, was having trouble believing what was happening.

“Why?” Corvo didn’t know whether it was okay to ask.

Daud closed his eyes and swallowed. Corvo waited in silence and started to stroke Daud’s back.

“You ever wonder about why Billie’s black?” Daud suddenly asked. When he opened his eyes they were so full of everything Corvo’s breath caught. He didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.

Daud rolled onto his back, and Corvo pressed against his side. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Daud’s arm curled around him. His free hand was gripping the edge of the blanket.

“It’s a long story.” Daud’s voice was strained. 

“Do you want to tell it?” Corvo asked. He knew he wanted to know.

Daud took a deep breath and let it hiss out. “I was in the military when I was young,” he began. He was gripping the blanket hard, but when Corvo smoothed his fingers over his white knuckles he let go. Corvo took Daud’s hand and settled against him.

“I was a career soldier. A pretty good one. I thought I was gonna work for the army my whole life. But when I was twenty-four I…” Daud swallowed and closed his eyes. “I fell in love.”

Corvo closed his eyes too. He could feel Daud breathing, hear his heart pumping faster.

“And the thing is, I never thought I’d fall in love with a guy, but it happened.” Daud gave a small, mirthless laugh. “And then neither of us thought we’d fall in love with the new woman in our unit.”

“Oh.” Corvo craned his head up to look at Daud. Daud was looking at his ceiling. 

“And it could’ve turned into something ugly between me and Donny, but Lena… She made us figure it out. We were—a pretty damn good match,” Daud went on, his voice catching. “And for about a year we managed to keep it a secret. All three of us.”

“What happened?” Corvo asked. His whole focus was on Daud, on the way his eyes closed and his lips were pressed together.

“We got caught.” Daud gave a half-shrug under Corvo. “They kicked us out. All of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Corvo whispered.

Daud finally looked at him. “And instead of going on with our lives nice and quiet, we decided to start making some noise. We knew we weren’t the only people who were discriminated against because of being poly or queer. Donny and Lena were both black, so there was the whole race issue, too.

“You remember when we met at the center? I used to volunteer there.” Daud cracked a small, sad smile. “Rosana and I go way back. We met at a rally, and she roped me into what she called compassionate activism. I was…twenty-seven, I think.”

Corvo just nodded. He cupped Daud’s cheek and smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. He was burning up with questions, but he knew he had to give Daud room to tell his story first. When his thumb brushed the scar, Daud grimaced.

“I got that at protest that went ugly. Lena was with me, and we had just found out she was pregnant. I was so focused on keeping her safe I didn’t notice one of the damn bigots had a knife on him.”

“Fuck,” Corvo breathed. Daud just nodded, glancing at him again. His eyes were wary, like he expected Corvo to bolt at any moment.

“Anyway, I got to keep my eye, and they never caught the perp.” Daud cleared his throat. Corvo could feel his shoulder tense under him. “Lena was pregnant. We didn’t know which one of us was the biological dad, truth be told. We didn’t care. We decided it didn’t matter, because both me and Donny would be fathers to the kid.”

“That’s admirable,” Corvo whispered. Daud jerked to look at him properly, and Corvo realized he’d been completely silent until now. He resumed stroking Daud’s cheek to show he was listening. Daud took another deep breath but he stayed quiet. Corvo saw his eyes were suddenly looking moist.

“Billie was born healthy. Our families were either dead or had disowned us, but we had the whole community behind us. Donny was clearly Billie’s biological dad, but it didn’t matter. Donny and Lena were adored by the folks at the lgbt society because they were much nicer than I am. I was the scary-looking guy who was too white to pass off as Serkonan, but I was good at speaking so I was the most vocal advocate for nontraditional relationships for a good while.”

Corvo saw the tears leak over. He wondered whether Daud had ever told anyone about all this.

“Being in a poly relationship is hard, but doable. Parenting is fucking impossible. I wasn’t allowed to attend Billie’s doctor’s appointments, they didn’t give me any formal rights as her dad, I wasn’t ever officially together with Lena and Donny. We only found a flat because of Rosana, because no one would rent to three adults who refused to stay quiet about being polyamorous.” 

Daud wiped the tears off but more were falling now. His breath was shuddering, and Corvo held him tighter.

“They were coming home from the child health centre. Usually I went with them and we deliberately got into an argument with the staff, but Lena was running a fever that day and we decided to let it be. Just that one time.”

Daud’s eyes were haunted as he looked at Corvo. “It was a fucking stupid accident. Someone tailgated them on the highway, just off a ramp. The car went around four times before it came to a stop, hitting a bridge pillar. Lena and Donny both died on impact, but Billie was strapped into her safety seat in the back.”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” Corvo’s throat was hot and tight and his eyes were burning. He realized he was gripping Daud’s shoulder hard, but when he let go Daud caught his hand. 

“Billie’s almost blind in her right eye. Her right arm works a little funny ‘cause it was crushed in the accident, and it took years to rehab it,” Daud whispered. “But she survived, and I got a phone call from the hospital only because a friend who was also a queer advocate happened to be on duty at the ER when they brought Billie in.”

Daud sighed, and the tension that had built trickled out. Corvo wiped his own eyes, and when his blurry vision cleared he saw Daud’s eyes were heavy with sorrow.

“Lena, Donny, and I, we had done all possible paperwork to ensure all three of us would be recognized as Billie’s parents. With both of them dead, their relatives started coming out of the woodwork and demand Billie be taken away from me. They hadn’t spoken to us for years, but suddenly they wanted to make sure I wouldn’t get to raise my daughter. The fact that I’m white and Billie’s not only made it worse.”

“But you succeeded,” Corvo said. His heart was beating fast.

“I did,” Daud agreed, with a faint smile. “Rosana’s then-partner was a lawyer. He’d been focusing mostly on transgender-related issues, but when he caught wind that Donny’s brothers were trying to sue me for kidnapping their niece… Well, it got ugly.”

“ _Kidnapping?_ ” Corvo sputtered for a second, trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing. His helpless rage must have showed because Daud actually chuckled, smoothing his tangled hair back.

“Yeah. They fucking hated me. But Ezra’s pretty damn good at what he does. I got custody, because Lena and Donny had both made documents where they recognized me as their partner and Billie’s second father, and gotten those verified with a lawyer; there was a loophole in the law,” Daud clarified, looking a little smug. “It became a precedent. I think they still quote that in law school.”

Then Daud’s smile vanished and he made a deep, exhausted sigh. “So that’s how I ended up a single-parent. I had a baby girl who required special medical attention. My own mother had died years ago, both of my partners were dead. It would have all gone to shit if not for Rosana and the others.”

“I believe you,” Corvo said, his voice scratchy. “I was a mess when Jess died.”

Daud’s eyes softened with sympathy. “I quit being an activist. My friends forced me into therapy. They took care of Billie when I inevitably just fucking fell apart. Ezra must have spent months babysitting Billie while I was trying to claw my way back to life. Then it gradually started to get a little better, but money was tight because turns out, folks don’t like to hire a guy whose face has been carved up with a pocket knife. So the chick Ezra was boning back then introduced me to a guy named Rulfio, who just happened to need a hand at his car shop.

“I have a knack for working with my hands. I got back on my feet, and when Billie was six I was doing okay. Then one day a lanky ginger guy pushes his shitty car into the garage and starts moaning about his firm. He wasn’t afraid of me, so I kept him company while Rulfio fixed his sorry excuse of a car, and that’s the short version of how I met Thomas.”

“The guy you now run the security systems firm with?” Corvo asked, eyebrows shooting up. Daud nodded with a laugh. 

“It’s another long story.” His smile fell again and he looked at Corvo properly. There was something fragile in him, like he had no clue what to expect.

“So, that’s the story of why I don’t date,” Daud said softly. He averted his gaze again. “People usually assume I adopted Billie with a partner who passed away, and explaining the truth is...fucking awful. It’s not worth it.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Corvo said quietly. His heart was aching, because it was so clear to see Daud was telling the truth. In that light, Corvo’s head was a bit dizzy by what it meant that Daud _had_ told him.

A silence fell, and it took Corvo a long while to understand that Daud was waiting for him to say something. He had no clue what that might be.

“What?” Corvo asked.

“You’re just—fine with all that?” Daud’s voice was incredulous. Corvo’s confusion softened, and he hugged Daud closer. 

“Yeah,” he breathed into Daud’s hair. “I am.”

The tension cracked and Daud went slack in his arms. He gave a watery laugh into Corvo’s neck, but he wasn’t pulling away. His arms tightened.

“Void,” Daud rasped. “I have no idea what to do now. All my fine plans hinged on you telling me to fuck off.”

Corvo burst out laughing. His heart ached more because he knew Daud was being honest, but at the same time Corvo was feeling good, in a new way; neither of them knew what the fuck they were doing here, but they were building trust.

“We could start by me making you breakfast,” Corvo finally offered.

***

Daud spent the following week in a weird daze. At work they got a few last-minute repairs back to back, and the days blurred together. It was Thursday before he knew it, and when Thomas kicked him out of their office in time to go to yoga Daud finally accepted that everything had not fallen through.

Corvo had made him breakfast. His eyes had remained a little sad, but he’d kept pressing close and tangling their feet under the table, and Daud had gradually relaxed. He’d lingered at Corvo’s until he knew he had to go and pick up Billie from Rosana and her wife, and even then Corvo had looked reluctant to part.

They had kissed against the front door for what had felt like hours.

Thomas had tried to voice a few delicately-worded questions when by Tuesday it became clear Daud’s mind was somewhere else. Daud had just grunted something unintelligible, and then received a text from Thomas later that evening.

_“Daud ffs, I had to ask your daughter what’s up. Congrats! I’m giving this Corvo a fucking medal.”_

So to say Daud was nervous about going to yoga and meeting Corvo again was an understatement.

Corvo’s car was not yet parked on the familiar spot when Daud arrived. Sarnai greeted Daud with a smile and a nod, and by now he had given up feeling disgruntled about the whole thing; he enjoyed the small gym, he might some day manage to touch his toes while bending down at the waist if he kept the practice up, and the only thing that truly annoyed him was…

“You.” Adriano greeted Daud with a frown when he walked into the dressing room. Daud rolled his eyes and dumped his bag next to the lockers.

The new guy, to whom Daud’s brain wanted to refer as the impostor, kept staring at him. He was once again wearing those ridiculous tight pants with a floral pattern, combined with a vague scowl, like Daud was somehow insulting him by his presence. When Daud stripped his shirt off, Adriano’s oddly pale eyes fixed onto the tattoos.

Corvo had kept touching the tattoos. His eyes had been glued to them, and Daud had been certain he would go crazy with how Corvo kept running his fingers along the inked lines—

Corvo opened the dressing room door and his face split into a delighted smile at the sight of Daud. Daud met his gaze even as his breath got stuck somewhere around his throat, because his mind had insisted on conjuring up further scenarios all week. Daud was slow to warm up to people, and sex didn’t interest him if it was with a nameless stranger. 

Daud looked at Corvo, standing at the door with a smile and his hair stuffed under a lumpy beanie. Daud remembered thinking about Corvo in his bed, naked and panting, and he had to look away as his ears started to burn.

“Hello, Corvo.”

“Hi Adriano.”

“Daud was worried you wouldn’t come.” There was a note of disapproval in Adriano’s voice. Daud bit his tongue to stay quiet.

“Was he now?” Daud could hear Corvo was smiling. 

“He kept looking at the door like it had personally wronged him.” 

Daud whirled around to bite back something, but Adriano was already out of the door. The silence that fell was brittle. 

Corvo stared at Daud with that same amused smile, and then Daud gave up pretending he was in control of his own life anymore. Corvo made a delighted noise as Daud crowded him against the wall and kissed him. His arms wrapped around Daud, and he buried his fingers into his hair.

Daud was falling in love with Corvo.

***

Waking up next to Daud was something Corvo had grown to love quicker than he’d expected. Spending time together when both of them had a teenage child to look after had been something they had talked about. The first time Corvo and Emily had both gone to spend a night at Daud’s and Billie’s, it had gone well. The girls were becoming friends, and apparently ganging up on their fathers to be allowed to stay up late was a hobby they both found equally amusing. 

As they were watching a movie, Emily looked at Corvo and Daud with a thoughtful expression. Corvo felt self-conscious about Daud’s arm around his shoulders, but Emily remained quiet. When Corvo asked what she thought about it all the next day, Emily just shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said, leaning against his side as they worked through a tub of ice cream. “You look happy with him. I like Billie.”

Corvo looked at her serious profile as she tried to fish out the bits of cookie dough from the ice cream and follow the period drama she’d insisted on watching. Sundays were usually family days, and it had been Emily’s turn to pick a movie.

“And… You’re fine if Daud and Billie become regular parts of our life?” Corvo finally asked. He realized he was dribbling ice cream all over his shirt as it melted, what with his spoon hovering halfway to his mouth.

“Sure,” Emily said. She sighed. “I still miss mom, but Daud’s cool. He promised to show me how to throw a knife.”

“He what?” Corvo tried to decide whether Daud had been joking or not. Emily staunchly refused to elaborate.

The following week Sarnai was teaching yoga again, with Adriano nowhere in sight. Corvo had to admit he liked the new guy’s way of teaching, but there was a distinct sort of nostalgia now to Sarnai’s gentle voice. Corvo was coming to associate the gym with feeling calm despite the fact that he and Daud spent the lessons glancing at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

They didn’t stay to change after the lesson, opting to shower at Corvo’s home before having dinner. Emily had a flute lesson and Delilah would pick her up after that, since she taught at the same community center. Corvo knew Delilah was dying to meet Daud by now, and as he drove it occurred to him that he would actually have to introduce them at some point. He and Daud were slowly working out ways to integrate into each others’ lives. They were both busy, so snatching a few hours together here and there was quickly becoming a norm.

The hard part was Corvo thought he could taste the tension between them. They hadn’t had sex yet, and Corvo was fine with that. He was nervous about sleeping with a guy, sure, but more than that he wanted to give Daud time. It was still difficult to just hand Daud a towel and then listen to him undress in the next room, when all Corvo could think of was putting his mouth to the black lines at the back of Daud’s neck.

Corvo tried to focus on chopping vegetables for dinner as he waited for his turn at the shower, but suddenly there was the sound of footsteps. 

Corvo almost dropped the knife when Daud turned him around and kissed him. He was wet, with the towel wrapped around his waist, and so warm Corvo was sure his fingertips would get singed. Daud controlled the kiss, and when his tongue brushed Corvo’s lips he parted them with a low moan.

He’d tried to hide how damn arousing pressing against Daud was, but this was too much. Daud was half-naked, water was dripping from his hair, and his hands were busy sneaking under Corvo’s shirt.

“Wanna join me?” Daud finally rasped when they came up for air. His pupils were wide and black, swallowing the stormy gray, and Corvo could only nod. He was growing hard, and Daud was pressing against him, feeling it too.

How they made it into the steamy bathroom was a bit of a mystery, but Corvo found himself leaning against the moist wall as Daud stripped him with sure hands. He kept glancing at Corvo every now and then, as if to make sure they were on the same page. Corvo felt his nerves jolt with excitement and sheer lust when Daud crouched down to tug off his sweats and underwear. 

Corvo peeled off the towel when Daud came back up to kiss him, and oh, but it was delicious to press against him naked. Daud’s cock rubbed against Corvo’s hip, and his own was leaking as Daud’s fingers brushed it. They didn’t linger, and Corvo moaned against Daud’s mouth as his hips twitched.

“Get in,” Daud chuckled. He walked Corvo under the spray of the shower. It was barely big enough to fit them both, but Corvo didn’t mind. He ended up against the wall as the hot water thrummed against their skin, and Daud was leaning down to nip at his throat and then soothe the bites his his tongue. Corvo gave up pretending to be coy, and enjoyed the gasp of laughter Daud made when he grabbed his ass.

“Been thinking about this, about you,” Daud murmured when Corvo made an embarrassingly loud moan in answer to a bite below his ear. Corvo answered by letting his hand drift lower and finally wrapped his fingers around Daud’s erection. He fantasized about doing this, but it felt even better than imagined when Daud sagged against him with a throaty whisper of _fuck yes._

His grip on Corvo’s shoulders grew tight enough to bruise as Corvo started to stroke him. He went slow at first, but suddenly Daud wrapped his own hand on top of Corvo’s. He grinned and kissed Corvo, eyes half-lidded. Corvo moaned as Daud started to guide him, speeding up and holding him firm. It was infinitely more erotic than he could have ever imagined; Corvo’s fingers gliding against the soft-solid shape of Daud’s cock, twisting a little to make him pant into Corvo’s mouth, and finally make him lose the rhythm as he started to shiver.

“Fuck, Corvo,” Daud gasped as Corvo swiped the pad of his thumb over the glans and it came away sticky despite the water running over them. “You’re so good, I’m gonna—” He gasped, and Corvo licked into his mouth just as Daud tipped over, coming all over their joined hands. Corvo kissed him hard, rutting his own cock against the curve of Daud’s hip just to catch some friction. He thought he might cum just from that.

When Daud finally cracked his eyes open, his limbs were loose and he was smiling. It was both soft and feral, and Corvo meant to say something, but his words got caught in his throat as Daud suddenly folded down onto the floor and sucked Corvo into his mouth.

Corvo’s hips bucked without his say-so. Daud pushed him against the wall as he stifled a gag, somehow managing to grin around Corvo’s cock. Then his cheeks hollowed and Corvo cracked his head against the wall tiles. It had been years since he’d last had sex with _anyone_ , and now it was _Daud_ sucking him off; it took Corvo about twenty seconds to be reduced into a moaning, panting mess, hanging onto Daud by his hair.

“Daud— Fuck, yes, just like that, love thay, _fuck—_ ” Corvo’s mouth was running away from him as his balls drew tight. Daud had closed his eyes and then his tongue brushed Corvo just so.

“I’m going to—fuck, Daud!”

Daud didn’t pull away. He swallowed around Corvo as he broke, and then Corvo’s knees buckled. Daud tried to catch him with a bark of hoarse laughter, and when Corvo came back to his senses a few moments later they were both sitting down on the floor, in one tangle of spent limbs. Daud was watching him closely, and there was a particular sort of softness in the keen gaze.

Daud grinned at him again as he helped Corvo up. Corvo’s legs still felt like jelly, but something hot and needy was bursting inside his chest. He pressed closer again to kiss Daud, and he knew he was smiling as he did so. 

He was so screwed. He was in love.

***

“Who’s that?”

Billie turned around to find Galia squinting at Daud. The mall was a chaos on a Saturday afternoon, and it took Billie a few moments to understand.

“Oh, that. It’s Corvo. His partner.”

Galia wrinkled her nose. “Partner?”

Billie nodded, rolling her eyes. “He hates being called Daud’s ‘boyfriend.’ Says he’s too old for that.”

Galia made a disgusted sound. “Why are adults like that?”

Billie shrugged. She saw Daud was still engrossed in the argument he was having with the candidate for the municipal council. Corvo was standing next to him, listening with a faint frown. They were holding hands. 

“How long have they been together?” Galia asked. She’d been Billie’s friend since kindergarten, but her family had moved to the other side of Dunwall two years ago. Billie missed causing trouble with Galia at school.

“Fifteen months or so.” Daud was starting to gesture, and the poor fucker who had erred to challenging him was looking embarrassed as steadily more people stopped to listen. Billie could only guess what the topic of the argument was; Daud had gone back to volunteering at the lgbt society last year, after staying away for almost fifteen years. He had a few things bottled up, it seemed.

“He and his daughter are gonna move in with us, I think,” Billie added, as an afterthought. She smiled as Galia gawked. Change was awful, but Corvo and Emily moving in with her and Daud was one thing that could be counted as a positive shift.

Emily was a nerd, but she was gradually coming out of her proper and prim shell. Billie had given her an undercut last week, and watching Corvo tie himself up into a knot to avoid saying anything rude as Emily preened had been hysterical. And it wasn’t like Corvo was a bad person, either. Billie liked him, because he didn’t insist on being overly nosy. He treated Billie like he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle a disabled teenager prone to yelling ‘FUCK’ at any given moment, but because he was a teacher he didn’t let it bother him. Corvo took things as they happened, and it suited Billie just fine.

And Corvo made Daud happy, Billie could see that. She’d initially been weirded out by her dad dating anyone, because it had been just the two of them as long as she could remember. Billie knew her two other parents only from photos and stories, and sometimes she missed them; as an abstract concept of a family that could have been, or just a chance to have someone besides a grumpy father who worked a little too hard and sometimes got caught inside his own head.

The argument concluded with the political candidate red in the face and Daud huffing to himself as he and Corvo walked towards the electronics store. Billie made sure to tap her foot as they spotted her.

“You’re late,” she announced loudly. Daud glared at her, and Corvo gave her dad the side-eye of the week. 

“Daud wanted to make sure the right-wing party’s golden candidate knows who he will be dealing with if he ever makes it to the council,” Corvo remarked in a perfectly neutral tone. It didn’t fool Billie for a second.

Daud grumbled something under his breath. Billie caught the words ‘child-support’ and ‘selective daycare,’ and decided she didn’t want to know. How Daud found the energy to be angry on behalf of other people was a bit beyond her comprehension, but she admired her dad for it nonetheless.

“So, should we go?” Corvo asked in a lighter tone, giving Daud’s hand a squeeze. “Emily was talking about a reading light she could hang over her bed.”

“With an option to dim the light,” Billie added. Corvo flashed her a smile, and Billie grinned. She realized too late it was a mistake.

“What is that?” Daud’s voice was like a thundercloud.

“Nothing,” Billie said, trying to keep her lips together as she spoke. 

“We talked about this, no piercings in the mouth!”

“It’s _my_ mouth!”

“Daud, please—” Corvo was looking slightly panicked.

“Under your lip! Your teeth are going to be ruined!”

“I don’t give a fuck!”

There were a lot of people staring, and Corvo was looking at them both like he wished to bang their heads together. Billie was just gearing up to throwing a proper fit when Emily appeared at her side as if from nowhere.

“What’s wrong?” She was holding her flute case, and together with the slightly uneven undercut she looked like a Sunday schooler gone slightly left. “I could hear Daud yelling.”

“You and everyone else in this mall,” Corvo muttered. He tugged at Daud’s sleeve. “How about we have this discussion at home?” he added with a furious frown. Billie wanted to laugh, because Corvo with his riot of a hair battled into a bad ponytail was about the least threatening human she’d ever met.

Daud scowled at Corvo, but the effect was ruined by the way his eyes softened. He still shot Billie another glare as they finally stepped into the store, and Billie could tell they would indeed talk later. She resisted the urge to flip him off, knowing that Daud’s ire would be much easier to deal with when he’d had the chance to cool off.

She and Emily trailed after Daud and Corvo as they launched into a less-volatile argument about whether Daud’s coffeemaker had come to the end of its life. Emily was humming something under her breath, and Billie could tell she was memorizing a melody by the way her fingers moved, as if playing her flute. 

Billie thought about the set of oil paints Emily’s weird aunt had given her when they had last met each other; Delilah was fascinating, and extremely on board with fanning the flames of Billie’s and Emily’s teenage rebellion. She wasn’t condescending about it, just genuinely delighted to make an awful mess with the paints with Billie and listen Emily play whenever they met. She and Daud did _not_ get along, and that had become clear even before they discovered they had some friends in common.

Billie had no family apart from Daud, and it was a good sort of weird, getting used to the new people in her life. She was contrary by default, but somewhere along the line she’d simply forgotten to be annoyed about this. 

**Author's Note:**

> The one sentence of so-called Serkonan Corvo says is actually Esperanto!


End file.
